Sunday, December 21, 2008

This post was originally going to be about how my family has once again shoved me into a corner for being conservative and even more this year since i told them i joined the marines.

This post was originally going to be about why my family continues to drive me insane and continuing to be around them is cutting the last few shreds of my insanity.

How fucking selfish is that?

I love my family, and i love to hate my family. There are thousands of men and women who dont get to see their parents this year. There are even more who dont have their parents drive them to the brink of insanity by 'getting low' in front of their adult children. There are parents who dont get to tell their kids about their failed relationships with men other than their father, and going into horrible detail about their sex lives.

Even with that crap, i love to see my family, and am truely blessed that i get to see them at this time of year.

God bless everyone this year, no matter what God you belive in.

and remember kids, dont light the menorah in the car (long story for another time.... after i can stop hacking vynl out of my lungs.)

Monday, December 15, 2008

And not in the cool holy shit its on fire and way. No this is going to collapse like a building in India way. Ill justify this statement with a story of why i now have a gangster ass limp.

I had to go upstairs here at the office so i could go through some records. That means getting a ladder, going above the speaker repair rooms and climbing the wall, officially meaning that our records are as hard to get ahold of as Fannie May without a subpoena. So i finally scale a wall of perfectly smooth drywall that im not allowed to kick a hole in to get a footing (stupid office damage policies) i end up on the evactuated second floor of this office. Now, according to Dade county fire code, this second floor is not to be used at any time. Were not supposed to have access to it. And thats why i have to scale a wall of drywall.

So as im on the second floor, i walk across to the lone shelf with our wonderfull stacks of banker boxes piled high as if to say 'yeah you try and find that gorram file your looking for punk'. well after about 2 hours of going through boxes i got it. am walking back across to the ladder point and a freaking nail goes through my shoe and into my foot. the second time this has happened in the year and a half have worked here.

And for some odd reason this whole nail in the bottom of my foot thing got me thinking about my job. Now i know, i have a job and times are tough, but i mean seriously, last week i was a 19 year old running a company and now im getting everyone lunch again cuz i told my boss i was going into the military. Thats kinda fucked up.

I dont know anymore guys.. I like my boss, hes a cool motherfucker. But at the same time, hes a duchebag of epic proportions sometimes. I gues thats the job of a boss, but idk i mean i hate this whole having to be friends with my coworkers bullshit. I dont like them, they dont like me and we aint no fucking happy family and when we try to be, its just like my dysfunctional family at home and who wants that shit.

So the more things change the more they stay the same. I move across the country to get away from my parents, only to have the things i left forcefed to me again through a different tube. I left to get away from nails going thru my boots at the ranch, now they go through my loafers.

Oh and with a bonus, I DONT GET PAID THIS WEEK, OR LAST WEEK OR NEXT WEEK BECAUSE OUR BOOKEEPER SENT OUR COMPANY INFO TO A SCAM!!!!!!!!!!!!

GOD i cant wait till september.

Oh, and on the practical side i wish i could collect unemployment for the next few months so i can do fuckall and just work out till i ship out. But i hate handouts so i will keep working.

Don't take the batteries out of the other soldiers alarm clocks (Even if they do hit snooze about forty times).

The Irish MPs are not after 'Me frosted lucky charms'.

Not allowed to wake an Non-Commissioned Officer by repeatedly banging on the head with a bag of trash.

Not allowed to let sock puppets take responsibility for any of my actions.

Not allowed to let sock puppets take command of my post.

Not allowed to chew gum at formation, unless I brought enough for everybody.

(Next day) Not allowed to chew gum at formation even if I *did* bring enough for everybody.

Not allowed to sing 'High Speed Dirt' by Megadeth during airborne operations. ('See the earth below/Soon to make a crater/Blue sky, black death, I'm off to meet my maker')

Can't have flashbacks to wars I was not in. (The Spanish-American War isn't over).

Our medic is called 'Sgt Larwasa', not 'Dr. Feelgood'.

Our supply Sgt is 'Sgt Watkins' not 'Sugar Daddy'.

Not allowed to ask for the day off due to religious purposes, on the basis that the world is going to end, more than once.

I do not have super-powers.

'Keep on Trucking' is *not* a psychological warfare message.

Not allowed to attempt to appeal to mankind's baser instincts in recruitment posters.

Camouflage body paint is not a uniform.

I am not the atheist chaplain.

I am not allowed to 'Go to Bragg boulevard and shake daddies little money maker for twenties stuffed into my undies'.

I am not authorized to fire officers.

I am not a citizen of Texas, and those other, forty-nine, lesser states.

I may not use public masturbation as a tool to demonstrate a flaw in a command decision.

Not allowed to trade military equipment for 'magic beans'.

Not allowed to sell magic beans during duty hours.

Not allowed to quote 'Dr Seuss' on military operations.

Not allowed to yell 'Take that Cobra' at the rifle range.

Not allowed to quote 'Full Metal Jacket ' at the rifle range.

'Napalm sticks to kids' is *not* a motivational phrase.

An order to 'Put Kiwi on my boots' does *not* involve fruit.

An order to 'Make my Boots black and shiny' does not involve electrical tape.

The proper response to a lawful order is not 'Why?'

The following words and phrases may not be used in a cadence- Budding sexuality, necrophilia, I hate everyone in this formation and wish they were dead, sexual lubrication, black earth mother, all Marines are latent homosexuals, Tantric yoga, Gotterdammerung, Korean hooker, Eskimo Nell, we've all got jackboots now, slut puppy, or any references to squid.

May not make posters depicting the leadership failings of my chain of command.

‘The Giant Space Ants' are not at the top of my chain of command.

If one soldier has a 2nd Lt bar on his uniform, and I have an E-4 on mine It means he outranks me. It does not mean ‘I have been promoted three more times than you'.

It is better to beg forgiveness than to ask permission, no longer applies to Specialist Schwarz.

Command decisions do *not* need to be ratified by a 2/3 majority.

Inflatable novelties do *not* entitle me to BAQ or Separation pay.

There are no evil clowns living under my bed.

There is no ‘Anti-Mime' campaign in Bosnia.

I am not the Psychological Warfare Mascot.

I may not line my helmet with tin foil to ‘Block out the space mind control lasers'.

May not pretend to be a facist stormtrooper, while on duty.

I am not authorized to prescribe any form of medication.

I must not flaunt my deviances in front of my chain of command.

May not wear gimp mask while on duty.

No military functions are to be performed ‘Skyclad'.

Woad is not camouflage makeup.

May not conduct psychological experiments on my chain of command.

"Teddy Bear, Teddy bear, turn around" is *not* a cadence.

The MP checkpoint is not an Imperial Stormtrooper roadblock, so I should not tell them "You don't need to see my identification, these are not the droids you are looking for."

I may not call block my chain of command.

I am neither the king nor queen of cheese.

Not allowed to wear a dress to any army functions.

May not bring a drag queen to the battalion formal dance.

May not form any press gangs.

Must not start any SITREP (Situation Report) with "I recently had an experience I just had to write you about...."

Must not use military vehicles to ‘Squish' things.

Not allowed to make any Psychological Warfare products depicting the infamous Ft. Bragg sniper incident.

May not challenge anyone in my chain of command to the ‘field of honor'.

If the thought of something makes me giggle for longer than 15 seconds, I am to assume that I am not allowed to do it.

Must not refer to 1st Sgt as ‘Mom'.

Must not refer to the Commander as ‘Dad'.

Inflatable sheep do *not* need to be displayed during a room inspection.

I am not authorized to initiate Jihad.

When asked to give a few words at a military ceremony ‘Romper Bomper Stomper Boo' is probably not appropriate.

Nerve gas is not funny.

Crucifixes do not ward off officers, and I should not test that.

I am not in need of a more suitable host body.

‘Redneck Zombies' is not a military training aid.

Gozer does not dwell in my refrigerator.

The proper response to a chemical weapon attack is not ‘Tell my chain of command what I really think about them, and then poke holes in their masks.'

A smiley face is not used to mark a minefield.

Claymore mines are not filled with yummy candy, and it is wrong to tell new soldiers that they are.

I am not allowed to mount a bayonet on a crew-served weapon.

Rodents are not entitled to burial with full military honors, even if they are "casualties of war".

My commander is not old enough to have fought in the civil war, and I should stop implying that he did.

Vodka, green food coloring, and a ‘Cool Mint’ Listerine® bottle is not a good combination.

I am not allowed to bum cigarettes off of anyone under twelve.

I may not trade my rifle for any of the following: Cigarettes, booze, sexual favors, Kalishnikovs, Soviet Armored vehicles, small children, or bootleg CD’s.

Must not mock command decisions in front of the press.

Should not taunt members of the press, even if they are really fat, exceptionally stupid, and working for UPI.

I am not authorized to change national policy in Eastern Europe.

Never, ever, attempt to correct a Green Beret officer about anything.

I am not qualified to operate any US, German, Polish, or Russian Armored vehicles.

When saluting a ‘leg’ officer, an appropriate greeting is not "Airborne leads the wa- oh...sorry sir".

There is absolutely no need to emulate the people from ‘Full Monty’ every time I hear the song "Hot Stuff".

I cannot trade my CO to the Russians.

I should not speculate on the penis size of anyone who outranks me.

Crucifying mice - bad idea.

Must not use government equipment to bootleg pornography.

Burn pits for classified material are not revel fires - therefore it is wrong to dance naked around them.

I cannot arrest children for being rude.

An EO briefing is probably not the best place to unveil my newest off color joke.

I should not use government resources to ‘waterproof’ dirty magazines.

Radioactive material should not be stored in the barracks.

I should not teach other soldiers to say offensive and crude things in Albanian, under the guise of teaching them how to say potentially useful phrases.

Two drink limit does not mean first and last.

Two drink limit does not mean two kinds of drinks.

Two drink limit does not mean the drinks can be as large as I like.

‘No Drinking Of Alcoholic Beverages’ does not imply that a Jack Daniel’s ® IV is acceptable.

"Shpadoinkle" is not a real word.

The Microsoft ® ‘Dancing Paperclip’ is not authorized to countermand any orders.

‘I’m drunk’ is a bad answer to any question posed by my commander.

No dancing in the turret. This especially applies in conjunction with rule #113.

The loudspeaker system is not a forum to voice my ideas.

The loudspeaker system is not to be used to replace the radio.

The loudspeaker system is not to be used to broadcast the soundtrack to a porno movie.

An order to put polish on my boots means the whole boot.

Shouting ‘Let’s do the village! Let’s do the whole fucking village!’ while out on a mission is bad.

Should not show up at the front gate wearing part of a Russian uniform, messily drunk.

Even if my commander did it.

Must not teach interpreters how to make "MRE" bombs.

I am not authorized to sell mineral rights.

Not allowed to use a broadsword to disprove ‘The Pen is Mightier than the sword’.

'Calvin-Ball' is not authorized PT.

I do not need to keep a 'range card' by my window.

'K-Pot, LBE, and a thin coat of Break-free' is not an authorized uniform.

I should not drink three quarts of blue food coloring before a urine test.

Nor should I drink three quarts of red food coloring, and scream during the same.

I should not threaten suicide with pop rocks and Coke ®.

Putting red 'Mike and Ike's' ® into a prescription medicine bottle, and then eating them all in a formation is not funny.

Must not create new DOD forms, then insist they be filled out.

On Sports Day PT, a wedgie is not considered a legal tackle.

The proper way to report to my Commander is 'Specialist Schwarz, reporting as ordered, Sir' not 'You can't prove a thing!'

The following items do not exist: Keys to the Drop Zone, A box of grid squares, blinker fluid, winter air for tires, canopy lights, or Chem-Light ® batteries.

I should not assign new privates to 'guard the flight line'.

Shouldn't treat 'piss-bottles' with extra-strength icy hot.

Teaching Albanian children to taunt other soldiers is not nice.

I will no longer perform 'lap-dances' while in uniform.

If I take the uniform off, in the course of the lap-dance, it still counts.

The revolution is not now.

When detained by MP's, I do not have a right to a strip search.

No part of the military uniform is edible.

Bodychecking General officers is not a good idea.

Past lives have absolutely no effect on the chain of command.

Take that hat off.

There is no such thing as a were-virgin.

I do not get 'that time of month'.

No, the pants are not optional.

Not allowed to operate a business out of the barracks.

Especially not a pornographic movie studio.

Not even if they *are* 'especially patriotic films'

Not allowed to 'defect' to OPFOR during training missions.

On training missions, try not to shoot down the General's helicopter.

'A full magazine and some privacy' is not the way to help a potential suicide.

I am not allowed to create new levels of security clearance.

Furby ® is not allowed into classified areas. (I swear to the gods, I did not make that up, it's actually DOD policy).

We do not 'charge into battle, naked, like the Celts'.

Any device that can crawl across the table on medium, does not need to be brought into the office.

I am not to refer to a formation as 'the boxy rectangle thingie'.

I am not 'A lesbian trapped in a man's body'.

On Army documents, my race is not 'Other'.

Nor is it 'Secretariat, in the third'.

Pokémon® trainer is not an MOS.

There is no FM for 'wall-to-wall counseling'.

My chain of command has neither the time, nor the inclination to hear about what I did with six boxes of Fruit Roll-Ups. ®

When operating a military vehicle I may *not* attempt something 'I saw in a cartoon'.

My name is not a killing word.

I am not the Emperor of anything.

Must not taunt officers in the throes of nicotine withdrawal, with cigarettes.

May not challenge officers to 'Meet me on the field of honor, at dawn'.

Do not dare SERE graduates to eat bugs. They will always do it.

Must not make s'mores while on guard duty.

Our Humvees cannot be assembled into a giant battle-robot.

The proper response to a briefing is not 'That's what you think'.

The Masons, and Gray Aliens are not in our chain of command.

Shouldn't take incriminating photos of my chain of command.

Shouldn't use Photoshop ® to create incriminating photos of my chain of command.

I am not allowed to give tattoos.

I am not allowed to sing 'Henry the VIII I am' until verse 68 ever again.

Not allowed to lead a 'Coup' during training missions.

I should not confess to crimes that took place before I was born.

My chain of command is not interested in why I 'just happen' to have a kilt, an inflatable sheep, and a box of rubber bands in the back of my car.

Must not valiantly push officers onto hand grenades to save the squad.

Despite the confusing similarity in the names, the "Safety Dance" and the "Safety Briefing" are never to be combined.

'To conquer the earth with an army of flying monkeys" is a bad long term goal to give the re-enlistment NCO.

NEVER nail a stuffed bunny to a cross and put it up in front of the Battalion Headquarters sign as an "Easter Desecration."

The Chicken and Rice MRE is *not* a personal lubricant. (Skippy wanted this noted for the record that this is not something he has ever attempted or considered! It was something we heard at dinner on 22 September 2001 and it was just so obscene it had to go here.)

Not allowed to play into the deluded fantasies of the civlians who are "hearing conversations" from the NSA, FBI, CIA and KGB due to the microchip the aliens implanted in their brain.

An airsickness bag is to be used for airsickness *only*. (Also not a Skippy-ism...this was the same dinner.)

Must not make T-shirts up depciting a pig with the writing "Eat Pork or Die" in Arabic to bring as civilian attire when preparing to deploy to a primarily Muslim country.

Don't ask LTC Steele to sign my copy of Blackhawk Down.

Must not go on nine deployments in six years that require a security clearance that I don't have, even if the Army tells me repeatedly that I have one and I have no reason to question them.

Do not convince NCO's that their razorbumps are the result of microscopic parasites.

i recently saw a sign about blogging, never before have so many said so much to so few. And i guess this is true about me as well. I am starting this because i truely want to keep a log of my transformation from Citizen to Marine.

So lets introduce myself... im Skippy. This nickname was given to me a long time ago, and will be used to refer to myself as long as i can think of... untill someone else gives me another nickname or somethin i guess. I just signed my papers to enter DEP... so i guess it will be about a year from now before i can actually call myself a Marine. As of right now my rank is Poolie.

I dont know what im going to do with this thing... but we will see how time molds me, this and everything around us.

About Me

20 y/o Maine Halfsie (joined but was medically not allowed to finish boot) who is wayyyyyy to interested in politics and has too much fun starting arguments and putting people in their place. either on their back or at my feet